A lamp flickered in the darkness, illuminating the desolate village.
The village houses were dilapidated, their doors and windows hanging precariously, as if they might collapse at any moment.
Two horses were approaching the village.
The clopping of their hooves echoed through the silent village, breaking the stillness of the night.
A young man and a woman rode on their backs.
They were both travel-worn, as if they had journeyed a long way.
The woman kept her eyes fixed on the lonely light. "Constable Meng, this village looks like it's been deserted for ages. How is there still a light on?"
The two of them were, of course, Meng Qingshan and Su Qing.
Meng Qingshan smiled faintly. "Let's go take a look!"
Su Qing reined in her horse and followed.
The two slowly stopped at the village entrance and dismounted.
Perhaps he had heard them approaching, for the wooden door of the house with the light on opened with a creak, as if it might fall apart at any moment.
Under the dim light inside, an old man stepped out.
He raised his head and sized up the two before him with cloudy eyes.
"Traveling so late at night—you two aren't from around here, are you?" The old man's voice was hoarse and low.
Su Qing nodded and replied, "That's right, sir. We've come from somewhere else."
The old man spoke softly. "Since you're not locals, I'll offer you a word of advice: this place isn't safe at night. You'd best avoid traveling after dark. If you don't mind, you can stay here for the night."
"Sir, we're people of the martial world. When traveling, a roof over our heads is a blessing. How could we possibly mind?"
Meng Qingshan looked around. The furnishings were sparse, and the tables and